


Self-destruct

by wocket



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, One-Sided Attraction, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23254570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wocket/pseuds/wocket
Summary: The aftermath of Dylan's suicide attempt.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Dylan Klebold
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Self-destruct

Dylan doesn’t pick up the telephone - in fact, nobody at his house does. Eric doesn’t think much of it until he tries for a second and third time. Dylan hasn’t been online in two days, and he was “out sick” on Friday.

Eric decides to drive out to his house on Cougar Road after having no luck. Dylan’s car is parked in the driveway, so Eric leaves his car behind the BMW and goes to ring the doorbell. It throws him for a loop when Byron answers the door.

“Uh, hey…” Eric says to Dylan’s older brother.

“Sup?” Byron asks, looking Eric up and down.

“Is Dylan here?” 

Byron sighs. “No, he’s… Dylan’s in the hospital,” he explains.

“Holy shit. Is he okay?” Eric asks. 

“Um, yeah, I think he will be,” Byron answers, shifting uncomfortably.

“What hospital? I’ll visit him,” Eric says decisively. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you can, man,” Byron answers. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m sure he’ll be home soon. I’ve probably told you too much already,” Byron apologizes weirdly, closing the door in Eric’s face.

_What the fuck,_ Eric thinks. He walks back to his car alone, a little shaken up by what he’s just heard. Dylan had been fine the last time he’d seen him. What happened? He stews the whole drive home, then decides to go back in the morning to check again, having no idea what was going on with his best friend.

*

Eric doesn’t sleep very well, but he manages to pass out around three in the morning. His alarm goes off four hours later and he heads back over to the Klebold residence, no less worried than he was the night before.

Sue answers the door this time. “Mrs. Klebold,” Eric greets, jamming his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts. “I heard Dylan was sick. Is he doing okay?”

Dylan’s mom acts almost as strangely as Byron had. “I’m sorry, Eric, he’s not here right now,” she tells him.

“I know. Byron said he was in the hospital,” Eric presses. “Can I visit him?” he asks.

“No.”

“Why not?” 

Dylan’s mom sighs. “He can’t have visitors, except for family.”

“I don’t get it. He’s that bad? What’s wrong with him?”

Sue gives him a long look, like she’s weighing her options, sizing him up. “Why don’t you come in?”

_That’s fucking weird_ , he thinks, but he follows Dylan’s mom into the house. She fixes herself a cup of tea although Eric declines, watching her mix sugar and milk into her cup from his spot at their dining room table.

“What’s going on, Mrs. Klebold?”

She sits down across from Eric. “It’s complicated.”

“Why can’t I see Dylan?”

“He’s at Highlands. So he can’t have visitors right now, although I’m sure he’d like to see you.”

“Can I call him?”

She shakes her head no. 

Eric clenches his fists. Ths is bullshit. Why can’t he get any information? What the hell is up with Dylan? “Mrs. Klebold, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

She puts down her cup with a sigh.

“Dylan tried to kill himself on Thursday night.”

Stunned into silence, Eric’s ears started ringing. “What?” 

“I really shouldn’t say anything else without Dylan’s permission.”

Eric nods. He’d make Dylan tell him everything later.

“I want to see him. When will he be home?” Eric asks, dejected.

“I don’t know. It could be a few more days,” she explains.

“Thank you.” Eric stands up. “Please tell him…” Eric doesn’t know what kind of message to deliver through Eric’s mom. “Tell him I say hello.”

Eric can’t stand being in Dylan’s house anymore without him. So he leaves.

*

Eric writes Dylan a letter after being verboten from other forms of communication. He doesn’t know what to say - first of all, he doesn’t even know what happened to Dylan. He doesn’t know what he _could_ say. Would Dylan’s mom read it? What if somebody at the hospital read it?

Eric sits at his desk for a long time, twirling a pen between his fingers. The top of the paper says Dylan’s name but nothing else.

_Dylan —  
What the hell, man? What’s going on? Are you okay?_

_I swear, I’ll bust through the wall like the Kool-Aid man to get you out of there. I want to see you so bad. I don’t know what’s happening and it’s driving me insane. I just want you to come home._

_-Reb_

*

Eric goes back to Dylan’s house the next day hoping to see Dylan’s mom. He’s got the folded-up letter burning a hole in his pocket. He catches her before she goes to the hospital and tries to hand her the envelope that says simply “Dylan”.

“Can you take this to him? Please?”

“I don’t know, Eric,” she says, unsure.

“Please, Mrs. Klebold.”

Gutted by the look on Eric’s face, Sue accepts the note.

*

Sue had promised Eric Dylan would be home from the hospital any day now. Eric tries to curb his excitement, his anticipation. He waits and waits. He decides to forget about greeting Dylan at home - he doesn’t want to overwhelm him - but he waits by the phone just in case.

He gets the call on a Thursday afternoon.

“Eric.”

“Holy shit, Vodka.” Eric never thought he’d be so grateful to hear the sound of his voice.

“Yeah. I know.”

“When did you get home?”

“Uh, like, lunchtime I guess?”

“Are you… okay?”

There’s a long pause. “I don’t think so, Reb.”

It’s not what Eric expects. There’s silence on the line as he tries to think of what to say.

“Can I come over?”

“I don’t know.” Dylan sounds hesitant.

“Please,” Eric begs.

“I guess.”

“I’m on my way,” Eric tells him, not taking the time to say goodbye. He hangs up, starting to toss shit into his backpack. He grabs one of Dylan’s favorite movies, a hoodie, whatever. On his way out the door he raids the fridge, looking for easy junk food. Who knows what Dylan has been eating the past few days?

Eric is too keyed up to listen to music on the drive over to Dylan’s, which seems to take forever. He hits every red light and pulls into Dylan’s driveway a little recklessly.

Sue answers the door, ready to turn him away, but he tells her Dylan is expecting him. He tries not to rush upstairs too fast, desperate to see his best friend, to know he’s alive. 

Eric bangs on Dylan’s door until he opens it. Dylan looks pale and skinny, but… like himself.

Eric grabs Dylan in a hug before he can hold back. Dylan doesn’t react at first but then his arms come up to rest around Eric’s shoulders. 

They don’t speak.

The hug lasts until it starts to feel weird. 

Eric pulls his backpack off and Dylan shuts the door, looking to make sure his parents weren’t listening in.

“Hey,” Dylan finally says, not sure what to do with his hands. 

Eric notices for the first time the bandages wrapped around Dylan’s slender wrists. He doesn’t comment on them, just takes a seat beside Dylan on the bed, waiting for him to volunteer something (but he doesn’t).

Eric’s not sure where to start. “I, uh, I missed you,” Eric mumbles.

“Thanks.”

“Was it bad?”

“The hospital, or what I did?” Dylan scoffs.

Eric doesn’t really know what he’s asking. “Both.”

“Yeah.” Normally talkative Dylan doesn’t offer up anything else.

“I’m sorry for not being there. Not visiting.”

“They wouldn’t have let you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eric asks, looking at the floor. 

Dylan doesn’t respond right away.

“You should have fucking told me,” Eric tells him sadly. 

Dylan looks like he’s about to get mad. “It’s not…”

“You don’t trust me, V?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not something I wanted to think about.”

“But Dylan —“

“You can’t save me.”

“You didn’t want to let me try?” Eric throws his hands up in frustration. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a Slim Jim for Dylan. “Peace offering,” he explains, handing it over.

Dylan almost smiles, unwrapping it. Eric knows he’s grateful even if he doesn’t say it.

“What do you want to do?”

Dylan shrugs. Eric grabs a VHS tape from his bag. Maybe a regular movie night will make things feel normal again.

“If you want me to get lost, I will…”

Dylan reaches out, stopping himself before he reaches Eric. “No. Stay.”

Eric licks his lips. “Yeah, of course.” He gets everything set up - movie, lights, snacks. “You need anything?”

Dylan shakes his head. 

Eric settles back on the bed the way they always do for movie nights. 

Dylan doesn’t seem totally comfortable yet but Eric doesn’t know what to do. 

The movie is familiar and a few scenes in, Dylan sits back, trying to find a good spot. Eric shifts to give him room even though he doesn’t mind the closeness.

Eric notices Dylan shivering; he grabs the hoodie for him. While Dylan seems startled at first, he pulls it on over his head.

Eric likes the look of Dylan in his sweater. He seems more content than he has been. Dylan pulls the sleeves further down his wrists and over his hands, somehow drowning in the fabric despite his size. 

After the tape finishes and the screen fills with static, Eric collapses on the bed, hoping Dylan will follow his lead.

Eventually, Dylan does sink down beside him, putting his head on a pillow. It’s a tight squeeze with both of them in the bed. Eric puts a hand on Dylan’s hip and pulls him closer, under the guise of pulling him away from the edge of the bed, but keeps his hand on Dylan.

“So what was it like?”

“Pretty shitty.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to, I just, I don’t know. I feel weird. I don’t like talking about it.”

Eric closes his eyes, focuses on the feeling of Dylan underneath his palm. He never wants to let him out of his sight again. 

Eventually Dylan brings his left hand up to Eric’s chest, lets his fingers splay against Eric’s Rammstein t-shirt, applying barely any pressure. It’s the most comfort he feels allowed to steal.

They lie in bed facing each other for a long time. It’s not until Dylan yawns that the moment shifts.

“Well, I guess I should go back home,” Eric stammers, dawdling. Dylan probably needs sleep. Regardless of anything Dylan feels able to tell him right now, he looks like he’s had a hell of a week.

Dylan pulls at the strings of the hoodie nervously. 

Eric starts to get up but Dylan catches his arm. “Don’t go home yet,” he says, wincing at how desperate it sounds. “I mean, stay a little while.”

Eric settles back into place. He can’t begrudge Dylan for this, can’t laugh at him. Feeling brave, he puts his arm around Dylan’s shoulders. After that it’s easy to close the distance between them, to pull Dylan’s face toward his chest.

“Bitch, I’m not going anywhere,” Eric promises, trying to move his hand in a reassuring pattern against Dylan’s back. He’ll stay as long as he needs. “Just…”

“Just what?”

“Promise you won’t pull that shit again.”

Dylan swallows. “I can’t promise that, Eric.”

Eric stiffens, blood pumping. Dylan’s not allowed to just leave him like that. Eric can’t explain how he feels but he knows it’s not something that’s going to get any better if Dylan offs himself and leaves Eric alone in this miserable life.

“What if I tell you, next time?” Dylan offers quietly.

“So we can do it together?”

“You’d do that?” Dylan breathes, pupils widening.

Eric opens his eyes. He nods, studying Dylan’s face. While he’d never seriously thought about it before, his heart races at the prospect. The answer seems obvious. If they couldn’t be together in life, they would choose each other in death.


End file.
